Run
by AllyMcGee
Summary: Some secrets are kept for a reason. When John McGee's secret is forced into the limelight no one's life will ever be the same...especially Tim's. The summary isn't the greatest, but I didn't want to give too much away First installment in a three part series.
1. Chapter 1

Hello All,

Sorry it has been so long since I have posted anything, but life has been a little hectic as of late. I have been working 12 hour days 7 days a week, so I have had little time for anything other than sleeping and eating. If your were following my other two stories Storm and Never Judge a Book by it's Cover, you will see that they have been deleted. I apologize for that, but I was writing those for my grandfather, who absolutely loved NCIS, but could no longer watch it due to his bad vision. It was my favorite thing to do for him and we often sat up when his chemo treatments left him ill and unable to sleep and came up with wonderful story lines. Unfortunately he passed away before I could finish the stories and I just can't bring myself to work on them any longer. I again apologize, but it is still a little too painful to work on those stories without him and his input. However, I hope you enjoy my newest installment. I have two weeks off for the Christmas shutdown and will have plenty of time to write!

Enjoy!

December 23, 2013

0900 Hours

Tim sat at the red light humming softly to the Christmas music that was playing on the radio. The early morning sun was shone brightly on the new fallen snow, causing the landscape to sparkle like a diamond. He smiled to himself as he took in the beauty. His mood that morning was high. He was taking his father to the hospital for his final cancer treatment. The Admiral had been showing a vast amount of improvement and the Oncologist repeatedly threw out the word "remission" when he talked to them. Tim had been there every step of the way for his treatment and the two of them had finally started to have the father-son relationship that Tim had craved all of his life.

The light turned green and Tim turned onto his father's street and made his way down the long winding road. John McGee always insisted on privacy and when he bought his house in Magnolia Heights Community he purchased all the land in the cul-de-sac to insure that no one build a house next to him. Tim pulled into his father's driveway and stared up at the dark house. He looked down at his watch and frowned. His Dad should have been up and moving about by now…they had to leave in twenty minutes. Tim shut the engine off and got out of the car. He shut the door and paused, staring up at the house for a moment. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip…something seemed off. A blast of icy wind cut through his coat and sent a shiver rippling through his body. He shook the negative thoughts from his head and jogged up to the front door.

He knocked loudly on the heavy oak door, "Dad," he shouted through the door. "Dad, you up yet?"

The door creaked open slightly beneath his touch and his stomach tightened with a sudden fear. Tim had his gun pulled before he even realized what he was doing and he quietly pushed the door open the rest of the way. As soon as he entered the kitchen he felt his blood run cold. The place was a mess. All the contents of the cabinets, drawers and refrigerator had been carelessly dumped onto the floor. Tim's heart slammed in his chest as he realized what he was looking at…a crime scene. Quickly he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Tony's number before quietly inching his way through the destruction of his father's home.

"Hey McGoo," Tony answered cheerfully. "What's up?"

"I need back up," Tim whispered.

"Back up? Where are you? What is wrong?"

Tim froze when he heard at the soft creak of wood, but continued once he realized that it was only the wind blowing the opened front door. "I'm at my Dads," his voice was low and dangerous as he took in the utter destruction that surrounded him. All of his dad's books were torn to pieces and littered the floor beneath his feet, along with pictures in broken frames and all of the Navy memorabilia that once hung proudly on the wall.

"McGee!" Tony shouted as if he had called his name more than once. "What is wrong?"

"The place has been tossed," Tim replied softly as he crept into the study. "I need b…" Tim words were cut short as his eyes scanned the study and were immediately drawn to the lifeless form that lay in the center of the destruction. "Oh no!" Tim gasped as he dropped the phone to the floor and rushed over to his father's side. "Dad!" He shouted as he knelt down next to the bloody, beaten man. John blinked his eyes several times before he was able to focus on his son's face. "Dad stay with me," Tim shouted as he removed his coat and began to put pressure on what appeared to be a large stab wound to his father's torso. Tim's eyes burned with tears as he took in the countless cuts and bruises that covered John's body.

John groaned slightly and tried to squirm away from his son's touch. Tim looked away from his father's pale face and to the phone he had dropped a few feet back. He could still hear Tony shouting on the line, "McGee answer me!"

"I need an ambulance!" Tim shouted before turning back to his dad. "Come on Dad…stay with me."

John reached up a shaky hand a grabbed Tim's wrist, "I'm sorry," he choked, splattering blood across Tim's face.

"Dad, no," Tim's voice cracked as he took his father's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Just hang in there for me."

A single tear fell from John's eye and he smiled sadly, "So much…to be…sorry for... never…wanted… you involved."

"Involved? Involved in what?" Tim asked.

John arched his back as he tried desperately to take in a breath. He was dying and Tim knew it. "Dad…Dad?"

John's soft green eyes caught Tim's, conveying an emotion that Tim had never seen in his father before…fear. "They…will come…fo…for you. I…I'm so sorry…son. I'm sorry."

Tim swallowed hard, "Dad who did this to you? Who will come for me?"

John's body began to relax and his breathing became shallow and choppy, "the…the code…the code."

He could feel the life slipping away from his father and he wasn't ready to let go, "Dad…Don't go. You have to hang on. Please."

"I didn't know," John whispered.

"Didn't know what?"

"It…It's s…so big. S…so many…people. So many…lies. I'm s…sorry. You…don't deserve…this."

"Dad you aren't making any sense," Tim said shakily as he applied more pressure to the wound and wondered where in the hell the ambulance and his team was. "I don't deserve what?"

The sound of footsteps in the hall caused Tim to look up just in time to see a masked man appear in the door way. Instinctively Tim reached for his weapon, but he wasn't quick enough and the masked man lifted his own gun and fired a single shot. Tim was knocked to the ground from the impact of the bullet to his upper right chest. The world seemed to come to a standstill as he stared up at the ceiling trying to process what had just happened to him. Every breath he took was excruciating and black spots danced before his eyes. His breath came in quick short bursts as he realized he was about to die right next to his father and he had no idea why.

The shooter slowly made his way across the room until he was hovering within Tim's eye line. The man smiled through the mask, "that was almost too easy John." The man said with amusement.

"Leave him…alone!" John choked. "Please."

Tim stared blankly at the man, still not registering what was happening. The gunman stared back at Tim with pure hatred in his chocolate brown eyes. Tim's vision began to blur as the pool of blood beneath him grew in size. The shooter knelt down next to Tim and poked his bullet wound with the muzzle of his gun. Tim grunted, not having the energy to actually scream. "You have no idea who your father really is do you?" The man taunted. Tim just started at him blankly. The man chuckled, "You would be surprised to know the secrets that he has kept from you." He cocked the hammer back on the revolver, "Unfortunately you will never know. Such a shame too, because I would love to see the disappointment on your face."

"You…are a coward!" John said defiantly. "Y…you are worthless!"

The man turned his attention from Tim to John, "says the man who lied to his family his entire life. You put your son in danger and didn't even have the balls to tell him that he was involved."

"He's…not involved…you…d…dick."

The shooter shook his head, "You can lie to little Timmy hear, but you can't lie to me John. I happen to know he is the only person on this planet that can break your code. And well…I can't let him do that. You won't tell me where you hid the code, so I have to insure your boy here can't expose our group. We have worked too hard to let a little punk ass brat bring us down."

"P…please don't do this." John begged. Tim had never heard his father beg before and it tore at his heartstrings.

The shooter feigned boredom and let out an exaggerated yawn, "I'm bored with you now John." He lifted his gun and fired a single shot into John's head.

Tim gasped and tears began to freely flow down his face. The bastard just murdered his father in cold blood and now it was his turn. The shooter placed the muzzle of his revolver to Tim's forehead, "I'm sorry kiddo, but I can't let you get your hands on that code."

Tim squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the end. He felt cold and alone as the last moments of his life played out before him. Images of Sarah, his mother, Delilah and his team flashed through his mind as the last seconds of his life ticked away. He heard the hammer cock back on the revolver and he held his breath and said a silent goodbye to all those that he loved.


	2. Chapter 2

December 23, 2013

0917 Hours

Gibbs skidded to a stop into John McGee's driveway. Tony was out the car before it had come to a complete stop and was already running toward the house. They had heard the conversation. They had heard the gunfire. It didn't sound promising and he wasn't sure what he would find. Tony's heart pounded heavily in his chest as he reached the opened front door and swiftly made his way inside with Gibbs on his six. His mind raced as he took in the utter destruction of John McGee's home. Someone was looking for something. Could it be the code that the unknown shooter was referring to? Tony quickly cleared the kitchen, the hallway and the two bedrooms to the right before he entered the study on the left. He froze in his tracks at the sight of the two lifeless bodies sprawled out on the floor. Tony ignored the bodies and the blood while he quickly cleared the room. Once he was certain that the shooter was no longer in the room he turned his attention the gory scene that took center stage in the study. John was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling and Tim was draped face down across the top of his father's body with a bullet hole to the back of the head.

Gibbs quietly entered the study after he had cleared the rest of the house. He found Tony standing in the middle of the room staring blankly at the heart wrenching scene of the murdered McGee men. The muscles in Gibbs jaw twitched slightly as he tried to process what he was seeing. How could this be? How could he have lost another agent so soon? The worst part of it all is that they heard the murder happening and there was absolutely nothing that they could have done to stop it…they were just too far away. With a heavy heart Gibbs knelt down next to Tim's body and gently started to roll him over. It was against protocol to touch the bodies, but he didn't really give a damn about protocol at that moment.

Tony tore his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to look into the dead, lifeless eyes of his best friend…he just couldn't do it.

"What the hell?" Gibbs exclaimed, causing Tony to jump slightly.

"What?" Tony asked without looking at Gibbs.

"This isn't McGee," Gibbs said as he pointed to the strange man at his feet. Tony snapped his head around and felt his heart skip a beat when he saw that Gibbs was right…it wasn't Tim.

"Oh thank God," Tony sighed, on the verge of tears.

Gibbs nodded his head in confirmation as he looked around the room with a raised eyebrow, "If this isn't McGee, then where in the hell is he? And who in the hell is this?"

Tony's relief was short lived as he realized Tim was far from out of the woods. They didn't know where he was or what shape he was in, "I don't know Boss. I…I just…I don't know. Maybe he is the shooter."

"Then who shot him? And where are they now?"

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he found that he didn't have an answer.

Gibbs stood up and began looking around the room, "Call Ducky and Vance," he said as his eyes settled on the large pool of blood just to John's right. The blood obviously did not belong to John, nor did it belong to the unidentified man. Gibbs gut twisted as the only viable option flashed into his head…Tim…the blood was Tim's. Gibbs moved in for a closer inspection of the pool of blood and noticed a bloody boot print next to it. The size was rather small…much too small to belong to any of the men that were in the room. There was a fourth person in the room.

"I have a blood trail Boss," Tony stated as he stood next to the door that led from the study to the veranda on the side of the house. He pointed down to the large blood drops that led out the door, past the veranda and to the driveway. No doubt in Gibbs mind that the blood would turn out to be McGee's, but why would someone take him? As the phone conversation replayed in his mind Gibbs' stomach soured. He had no idea what code John was talking about, but if Tim was indeed the only one that knew how to decode it that could spell some serious trouble for his young agent.

"What happened here?" Tony said as he squatted down next to one of the blood drops on the driveway. "What has Tim gotten into? What secret was John keeping?"

"I don't know," Gibbs said coldly. "But I sure as hell intend to find out." Gibbs headed to the sedan and grabbed his kit from the trunk. He handed Tony Tim's camera, "Start taking pictures," he ordered.

"On it Boss," Tony said as he jogged back toward the house. He hesitated just for a moment at the door. He had been to hundreds of murder scenes before, but this one was hitting a raw nerve. Not only was his best friend possibly injured and involved in something dangerous, but he has no doubts that Tim witnessed his father's murder. That's a psychological scar that would have a profound effect on his sensitive Probie. Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat as he forced himself to re-enter the house. _This is going to get messy_, he thought to himself as he began snapping pictures.

As Tony snapped a picture of John's body he felt an overpowering sense of impending doom fill the air, causing a chill run down his spine. There was something he was forgetting. Something important. He looked through the lens of the camera once more and froze as a thought snaked its way into his brain: _John McGee lied to his family and now McGee is in danger, but what about Sarah? Would they go after her too?_

"Boss!" Tony turned on his heel and ran toward the door. They had to get to Sarah before anyone else did.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is kind of short, but it introduces two important characters, so bear with me.

December 23, 2013

1010 Hours

Tim shivered violently as he tried to fight of the nausea that was threatening to rear its ugly head. Sweat beaded on his brow and he fought hard to stay conscious, even thought he knew it was a battle that he would eventually lose. His brain felt numb, which made it difficult to remember exactly what had happened. He had been shot…that much he knew. The stabbing pain he felt every time he took in a breath was enough to tell him that. He remembered the shooter. He remembered his father being killed, but after that he couldn't remember much of anything. How was he still breathing? Did Gibbs rescue him? Is he on his way to the hospital? His brain was too hazy to form coherent answers and it was taking far too much energy to stay conscious. Suddenly sleep didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Open your damn eyes," an unfamiliar female voice shouted at him. He could feel warm hands grip his face and shake it gently. Tim tried to obey the order, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't pry his eyes open. "He is losing too much blood," she said anxiously. "What do I do?"

"Put more pressure on the wound Sam," a different female voice said calmly.

Tim sucked in a sharp breath when Sam did as instructed. The pain was so overwhelming that his head began to spin and the taste of bile rose in his throat. He tried to squirm away from the painful touch, but her strong arms held him tightly. He was too weak to fight it, so he quit struggling and rested his head on Sam's chest. _So your name is Sam?_ Tim thought to himself. _I like that name._ Oddly enough he felt a strange sense of comfort in her embrace. He no longer felt so cold and alone as he listened to the frantic, rhythmic beating of her heart.

The pain in his chest slowly started to fade away and Tim's body began to relax. Both of which he knew was not a good sign. _This is it_, he thought. _This is my last ride_. Much to his surprise the revelation didn't bother him as much as he figured it would. He smiled to himself as his world faded to black. _At least I'm not dying alone_; he thought as he let the comforting sound of a kind stranger's heartbeat carry him into unconsciousness.


End file.
